Confession
by NiGhT-sTaLkEr13
Summary: Post war. AU. Megatron takes his time to think back on his childhood church days. Will he go back, though? Profanity, controversial themes, religious and offensive themes, sexual references.


Confession

**Warning: Contains religious material and controversial themes.  
Characters: Megatron (G1) **

With his palm against the pillar, Megatron's dark optics looked to the building before him. It was a church, like the one that his mother had forced him to go to through growing up. He never knew what to believe when he was younger, because everything had gone so wrong for him. But that didn't mean he wasn't forced here every cyber-week.  
He remembered how his mother had dragged him up the stairs, making him sit in silence and go into the confession box later on. She made him believe that he was disgusting, and a sinner—even though she worshipped the mechs in here. Calling them 'Father' was a joke. He never understood why he was made to call them that. They weren't his father, and they certainly didn't act like his father. Then again, back then he didn't understand a lot of things. Especially religious bullshit.  
He didn't even know why he was here. But something inside him wouldn't let him forget Primus, even though he hated the God with everything he had. Still, there was part of him that believed, and that was mainly because he was just brought up that way. No matter how hard he tried to force it out of him, it was still there, embedded into him from his mother forcing him here to take part in the weekly ceremony.  
Primus had done nothing for him, he knew that. How could he? He wasn't alive anymore. He was simply the core of their world. It didn't mean he transported godlike wavelengths and made miracles happen. That was just false hope for 'bots who had nothing else to believe in but a lie. He figured hope was better than nothing, though. It gave others strength—even he knew that.  
At one point, he had been a God to many. Others believed in his cause, believed that he could change this world. Well, it got further than he originally thought, but it didn't mean he went the right way about it. He could have stuck to politics. But the amount of bullshit that went on inside the government? He'd rather take it by force than have to study years of shit to change absolutely nothing. And that's exactly what he had done.  
In the long run, he had made a difference. But it was all just history now. At the time, yes, he was feared, powerful. But now? He was simply a name to be remembered. There were days he wished that he could go back to the way it was in war, but he also knew he wouldn't be as happy as he was today. He had Shockwave, his mate. And right now, that gave him enough strength to carry on doing the right thing—for himself, society and Shockwave.  
If war was still raging, he wouldn't have the former Guardian by his side. Well, he'd have him by his side as a soldier, but he would have never experienced the wonders of love and bonding. Shockwave may have always been there for him, but he would rather have the mech as his lover than just a soldier. Still, it wasn't like he thanked Primus for that. It was his and (mostly) Shockwave's efforts that had pushed the two of them together. Not to mention he had to, admittedly, thank Prime, as well as Starscream—not that he enjoyed having to admit that last part.  
Hearing the bells chime, his optics looked up, the noise echoing throughout the street, and probably miles away from here. It made him shudder, remembering hearing the noise when he was younger. In a way, this place had made him feel safer than home, and when service was over; he feared what his mother would do to him back there. At least here, he knew that no one could actually hurt him. Plus, the confession stands always seemed to make him loosen up. The priests did more than Primus ever had, and at the thought, his hand clenched around the pillar, his jaw going tight at how they blindly followed someone who clearly did jack shit for anyone. At least when he was a leader he was real. They could see, hear, and touch him. He wasn't just a myth and false hope.  
A moment passed before mechs and femmes began to walk out, making him know that the service was ending. This meant the place would mostly be deserted inside, except for the few members who stayed back and did what they needed to as if it would make them a better Cybertronian. He scoffed at the thought, shaking his head. How he wished he could go in there and tell them that they were all believing in nothing but a fucking joke! But then again, his anger was directed at something he still believed in—even though he hardly admitted it to anyone, or even himself.  
At one point in time, he depended on Primus for everything. Every night, he was taught to get down on his knees, take the beads within his hands and pray for his existence and for everything he had. A mother, a father, food, a roof over his head. But in reality, he had none. Sure, he had the materialistic shit that most had, but did he have a true home? No. A home was a place where you felt warm, comfortable and safe. That place was no real home. It was a torture chamber, and his parents would never be what one would consider compassionate.  
In the end, he ended up begging, crying to Primus, asking him why he was suffering so much. He just wanted answers. He wanted to be safe! He wanted to be like the other kids, who were given such beautiful things in life. A real home. A real family! Someone who truly cared for them. But he was never granted his prayers.  
Eventually, his disappointment turned to hate and hurt. He blamed Primus for everything negative in his life. He could have pulled him out and made him safe through some unspeakable miracle. Anything! He could have given him a fucking sign! Instead, he was ignored. He was thrown away and given nothing but more torture. And for that, he threw away his beliefs; he cursed Primus, threatening him with anything he had. Why bother believe in something that clearly didn't care, right? And yet… here he was, stellar-cycles later, still questioning everything he ever believed in.  
It was hard. It was hard to comprehend and make sense out of. No matter how much he _wanted_ to hate and forget Primus was there, he simply couldn't! It wasn't a choice! It was scarred into him, like some fucking sick disease! And he just couldn't get rid of it. Hell, he was only a mech when it came down to it, wasn't he. And all mechs made mistakes, as well as questioned. He wouldn't be a mech if he didn't question. He'd be a simple droid. And as much as having no emotions would be wonderful, he knew deep down living like a droid was basically pointless.  
"May I help you?" came a voice, pulling him out of his thoughts. He didn't realise the minister heading his way, the robed mech having his hands together.  
"No," he said, shaking his head. He was an idiot to come here. What did he think it was going to do for him? Make him a better mech? What a joke. Sitting in here was nothing but fake lies. Once all these 'bots came out of the church, they turned into their true selves. Ignorant as fuck! Church itself was just a way of making them feel better for all the shit they did during the week. Why not, right? Be absolved of your sins? Start a new cyber-week, do it all over again! With a religion like this, as long as you died asking for forgiveness, you'd be granted a place in the Well of Allsparks. If not? Then you rusted and decayed in a box for the rest of eternity.

"Are you sure, young mech," said the minster, sensing the other was quite tense. "You wouldn't have come here for no reason, correct? Why don't you come inside and we can talk it through."

Narrowing his optics, Megatron leant his hand from the pillar. "So you can lie to me and tell me everything will be fine as long as I believe in nothing but filthy lies from your holy lips?" he asked, giving a snerk. "Please, Primus never did anything for me before, so what makes you think he's going to listen this time?"

Clearing his throat, the minister extended his hand. "I'm Father Merrick. I can see that you've clearly had a rough time with Primus. Please come in, and maybe I can help. If not for the sake of believing in Primus, then just to get this off your chest."

Eyeing the hand, Megatron didn't extend his own. He wasn't going to act as if he were friends with this mech when he wasn't. Instead, he accepted the offer simply because he didn't want to seem like an arse, and headed up the stairs.

Taking his hand back, Father Merrick gave a slight frown, though he followed the mech into the church. "I guess it's been a long time… Mr…?" he waited, hearing the mech say his name. "Mr. Megatron. Can I ask why you've lost your faith?"

Looking across the rows of seats, Megatron looked at the altar, frowning once more as he remembered the ceremonies that took place. "It's… different from what I remember," he noted, everything shining new. Then again, a lot of the churches were destroyed in his rampage of war. So most of them had been rebuilt—this one included.

Giving a light chuckle, the robed mech walked in front of the silver one. "Well, yes, most of the churches were destroyed stellar-cycles back. This one was the first to be rebuilt. We've gained a lot of followers since."

"Is that all you want, Father? Followers?" accused the Cybertronian tank. "Let me tell you from experience. Followers can't take away the pain! They can't make you a better mech, Father! They make you blind to your own faults. They cause lies, and in the end, they will destroy Cybertron and what Primus was supposed to stand for. It's nothing but the start of corruption…"

So, Megatron was clearly a mech who had lost his faith in the church, and Primus along the way. He couldn't make someone believe, and he wasn't going to force it on the mech. However, he was always open for helping others, and to help aid them into believing in something once again. After all, the mech had come here, and that meant he believed in something, didn't it?  
"I understand the ways of losing faith when one is faced with such horrors of war," he said, assuming the mech was a previous soldier in the Great War. Many lost their faith when they entered war. After all, what God would want to reign that across his land and on his people?

"Do you really?" asked Megatron. "Show me one scar that proves to me that you've been a soldier? The things you see and do… That's nothing that Primus should witness, and yet we do it. For what? For power. Because we strive to be something more. But in the end, we're all just the same. Fuck ups that Primus created and called children."

The minister winced at the sound of harsh language being used in the church grounds. "If it makes anything easier, we have a confessions booth, Megatron," he said, his hand moving towards the box to the right side of the church.

Looking to where the mech was pointing, Megatron's hands gripped the back of the seat he was standing behind. "What more can that box do for me than you can?" he asked. "It doesn't matter. Primus screwed himself over when it came to me. You whispering things inside my audio won't help gain back what little faith I once had."

"I am not trying to convert you, but I can be Primus' audio for you. Let him hear you speak, and let us try to help you gain hope again. It is not up to Primus to aid every mech and femme on his world. He gave _us_ life, and in return, we have faith in him."

"Faith for what!?" hissed Megatron, his denta showing. "Faith for him to ignore us!? I was just a child when he ignored me! He put me through so much pain and suffering, and when I asked for help, I was given nothing but silence!"

This wasn't the first time Father Merrick had had upset 'bots inside his church. Actually, many came through here, seeking guidance and forgiveness for their actions. Megatron was no different from them. All he needed was guidance, and he would be well on his way.  
"You're still here, are you not?" he asked. "It is not Primus' job to answer every prayer. When things are done correctly, others can't be sure that anything has even been done, Megatron. It doesn't mean you are going unheard. Primus is someone to listen to you, to seek advice from, but it is up to us, as individuals, to choose how we make a difference."

Megatron laughed. "So he's a free psychiatrist? Shit, why don't I just tell Karmashock to pack up and leave?" he stated, turning around to the mech who seemed to be wearing quite blank facial. "Look, I appreciate what you're trying to do, but forcing this onto me isn't going to make anything better."

"Then why are you here?" asked the minister, his optics arching calmly.

Biting down his jaw, Megatron was close to backhanding the mech, however, he let his optics fall, exhaling lightly. "I don't know," he murmured, running his left hand down his face. "I just… I thought that I could get answers, but now I'm just regretting it. I was a fool to come here."

"That's not true," said the other mech, putting his hand to the larger mech's arm. "Come, get some of this trouble off your chest," he said, motioning to the booth at the side. "That way, it's all confidential."

Arching his optics, Megatron looked to the booth, the mech drawing the curtain to the door and allowing him inside. He stood for a moment before heading over, deciding why the hell not? After all, what was the harm in it if the mech couldn't actually tell anyone else?  
Sitting down, he closed the door, giving a sigh as he made the sign of his religion as a child. As the mech sat beside him in the booth, he placed his hands to the bottom of his chin. "Bless me Father, for I have sinned," he murmured, letting his hands fall. "It's been… stellar-cycles since I've done this. Since I was just a sparkling…"

"So you _have_ been here before," said the other mech, giving a light nod to himself. "Let us know what's troubling you, Megatron."

"I'd be lying if I said I don't feel stupid for being here," stated the silver mech. "I… I've done terrible things, but… I didn't mean to. It was out of my hands," he said, swallowing hard. "My mother… She-she tormented me so much. I asked Primus why I was suffering, and I blamed him for everything that I suffered. I just wanted her approval… I just wanted her love," he said, clenching his optics as the memories came flooding back.  
Placing a hand onto the door, he leant forward, pinching the bridge of his nose with his other. "I can't do this…" he said, shaking his head.

"Just take your time, Primus is with you," said the other, looking to the larger mech beside him in the other side of the booth. Confession boxes always got these kinds of reactions. They were a way for others to get their sins off their chests, and ask for forgiveness from Primus. And in the end, they would be absolved from the priest, who stood in Primus' place through the ritual.

Breathing hard, Megatron leant back up, leaning his head back against the wall. "I hated them so much. Both of them. Primus and my mother. She saw so much in him, when I was nothing but her toy. Her sinful toy that she used," he said, his spark aching. "She told me it was for my own good. That she was cleansing me, making me a good boy, so I wouldn't turn out like the rest of them. But it never stopped!" he choked. "She never stopped…"

At hearing the mech's distraught voice, Father Merrick frowned a little, the mech beside him clearly holding onto a long list of past sins, as well as his mother—whoever she was.

Kicking the door with his pede, Megatron swore before turning his optics apologetically to the mech. "Sorry," he said, "I know I shouldn't use such language in a holy place. It's just…" he sighed, turning back away. "I guess it's getting more to me than I thought it would. Who would have guessed? I speak to my therapist on a regular basis and I don't usually get this… emotional."

"A therapist is not Primus," said the older mech. "Therapists practice in the ways of the Cybertronian mind. They understand how to make one feel better. Primus is powerful, but many believe his judgement is cruel. It's only common to feel the need to apologise. Especially on such holy ground. Don't lose faith in your psychiatrist. As much as Primus is there for us, he cannot give you the emotional support that your therapist can give."

Well, at least he was honest. Still, he considered Karmashock to be more than just his 'therapist'. "Then what is the purpose?" he asked, his optics looking to the mech once more as he took the beads that were hanging on the inside of the booth. They were an exact replica to the ones he had had when growing up.

"Having faith in something that no one can see, feel or hear is something that is more personal and spiritual. We do not know the consequences, and thus power comes from this being. If we are good to him, one day we may be rewarded. If we are not rewarded in the end, then at least we served a great purpose in life, and helped aid Cybertron to become a better place."

Arching an optic ridge, Megatron leant back against the wall. "I see…" he said, feeling the urge to roll his optics at such nonsense. Still, the mech was being polite, and at least letting him express his past to him. "So… you want to hear these sins?" he asked.

"That is up to you, Megatron," said the minister. "Please, hold onto the beads, they will comfort you."

Yes, because beads were about to make him feel so much better. Nonetheless, Megatron wrapped them around his hand, keeping the small pendant in his palm. Now, where to start? "I was a sick child," he said. "Not sick as in vomit sick, but… sick in the head. I… wasn't aware of a lot of the things I had committed. But up to date, I've committed some of the worst crimes one could ever commit…"

"Go on. Primus hears you, my child."

"I guess cursing was the first thing… I learnt it off my father. He was always so rough with me, hitting me for being such a horrible son. I got desires. Dark ones that I couldn't control. I used animals to let it out, killing them and… violating their corpses," he murmured. "I didn't mean it, though. I tried stopping myself, but the temptation was too strong, and I fell to the sins."  
As he remembered the images, he bit his bottom lip, trying to shake them from his mind. "But it wasn't enough for me. I hated her so much. I just wanted to see her suffer. _Them_ suffer. I wanted them all to get what they deserved, make them feel the way I had when she… when she touched me," he whispered, feeling his spark thump once more. Inside, he could feel it crack as he remembered all the horrid things he had done to those innocent lives. But he was so angry! He just couldn't control it.  
"In the end, I used them for my own sick pleasures. I gained such satisfaction that I was on a high for cycles. But like before, it wasn't enough. It became an addiction, and obsession. One rape after the other, and then the murders… Primus, there was so much oil," he breathed, leaning his face into his palms.  
"I couldn't help it! I swore to myself I'd stop, but every time, I gave in again and again!" he strained to say, feeling his body shudder. "And then war seemed to be the only escape. The only way I could truly make a change. And even then, I killed so many innocent lives. I sent so many to their deaths! I tore down every mech who stood in my way, even if they were fighting for a good cause…"

Listening closely, Father Merrick's optics turned to the mech who was beside him. Megatron? This mech was _the_ Megatron? Well, it all made sense now, didn't it? And yet, so many of his own religion had actually supported the mech's goal. They had even taken in Decepticon soldiers after the war had ended, protecting them from their crimes.  
"We all make terrible mistakes when we are hurting, Megatron," he said, his voice soft. "But the fact of the matter is you're here. That means something, even if you can't find it in your spark to believe that Primus is truly here for you. Is there anything else?"

Breathing softly, the former tyrant relaxed his body as he collected himself. "Let's see… I've fallen in love with a mech and bonded to him. Not sure if that's against this religion anymore. And… heh, I wank every day or two. I guess that's still a sin, Father. I curse, I judge… I still have horrible desires. Primus, I say the Lord's name in vain." Like so. "I have a hard time forgiving… And I think that covers most of it."

"You've been a very busy mech, I must say, Megatron," said the older 'bot, giving a light smile. "Is this all you wish to say today?"

Thinking for a moment, Megatron lowered his optics. "I don't ask for forgiveness, Father," he stated softly. "I can't. Not after what I've done. I know I should be punished, and I live with my sins every day… I can't sit here and ask Primus for forgiveness, because I can't even forgive myself…"

Giving a light smile, Father Merrick turned his optics to the mech once more. "You'll note that the ones who don't ask for forgiveness are the ones who Primus truly listens to. The world can be filled with greedy 'bots, Megatron. But you? You're one of the true ones who are honestly sorry. Don't think Primus won't take that into account when you are being judged. I can't tell you how many I have sat in this box with and known to be fake to their Lord."

Parting his lips, Megatron lowered his head once more. "I am sorry…" he murmured. "I'm so, so sorry for what I have done to everyone. To myself, even. If it weren't for me, Cybertron could still be blooming… So many lives were taken, so many innocent lives. A sinner like me doesn't _deserve_ forgiveness…!"

"Megatron, you are still one of Primus' children. You may have been corrupted by the forces of evil once upon a time, but you're a changed mech. Primus is always willing to forgive, even to the ones who don't ask or believe they truly deserve it," stated the older 'bot.

Rubbing the front of his helm, Megatron gave a weak attempt at a laugh. "The sad part is? I believe you…" he whispered, looking to the beads in his hand. "I can't say how many times I trod on, ripped apart and even defiled these when I had them. I have a hard time admitting that I still feel something for the one who I blamed everything on. But do you think Primus sees through my pride?"

Father Merrick nodded. "He does, my child. But you must grant him full access, or your pride could very well be your loss of faith once more."

Megatron knew that already, but it was hard taking down that barrier. He knew he would never become the holy mech he had been brought up to be. He simply couldn't. He had done too much. Too many things had corrupted his past, not to mention the fact that no matter how hard he tried, he simply couldn't admit that he was a true believer in their God's faith. Yes, he believed in Primus, as he was fact. But believing _in_ him was different.  
"Thank you," he said, putting the beads back up and making the sign against his chest once more. "I think I've had enough for one day. It's going to take time to sink in, Father."

"Primus hears you, Megatron. You do not depend on him to answer, but you can hope he will hear you," he said, standing from his seat and allowing the mech out of the door. "Will we see you again?" he asked.

At the question, Megatron felt his systems stiffen a little. "I… I can't promise you, Father," he said. "I feel this ground is simply too holy for someone like me to be on. But nonetheless, I have a bit to think about, and for that, I thank you."

"Of course. May Primus be with you, Megatron," he said, giving a light nod to the larger mech.

Nodding, Megatron didn't respond to that, he simply turned around and headed back outside. As the light struck his chassis, he shaded his optics for a moment, the church being so dark in the morning. Everywhere around him, sinners did their thing. In the end, would they all truly be punished, or was it all just a lie? A way of making society better through the power of belief? He didn't know, and he guessed he never would. And what one didn't have a solid answer for, well, it created fear, didn't it? Fear that could turn into faith for a better cause. That was the thing about faith, wasn't it? It could truly be a powerful thing.

**Author's Comment:**

_This is pretty controversial on beliefs and stuff, so please, if you have bias religious comments, keep them to yourself. This isn't a thread for people to start bashing one another._

_Read it how it is. That is that._

_All characters are G1/IDW based._


End file.
